Winter Dreams
by S J Smith
Summary: Who knows what form magic can take? EdWin foof.


Winter Dreams

S J Smith

Disclaimer: If you're reading this, you know that (a) I don't own any of the characters mentioned and (b) I'm not making any money. You should also know that (c), I don't own the lyrics to _Still, Still, Still _but they might be under eminent domain at this point.

Rating: Anyone can read.

A.N.: The story about the pie...well, I've been doing that for years. Who knows what form magic can take, after all?

A.N. 2: In armor, a greeve is what wraps around the forearm for protection. In case you're curious, that is.

Written for the Ed-Winry Christmas challenge last year. My challenge was to use "warm caramel apple pie with ice cream" in the story.

* * *

The weather was miserable; the wind blowing the falling snow into ever-increasing drifts. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that staying inside was the best idea possible. Though the weather had been the least of anyone's concerns when Lieutenant Colonel Hughes issued the invitations for the winter solstice, now those who'd accepted were glad that it wasn't necessary for them to leave any time in the near future. People were scattered around the house in various groups, talking and laughing. Hughes was currently trying to get everyone together to sing. "Come on," he said cheerfully. "It's that time of year. We need to sing carols! Besides, once we get warmed up, you'll need to hear Elicia's dulcet voice. She's going to be our next mezzo-soprano, I just know it!" He beckoned at Edward and the others as he passed through the room. "Come on and join us!"

Ed smiled but remained right where he was standing, watching as various military personnel filed past. "If this is what he considers a little get-together, I'd hate to think what he'd consider a party."

"I think it's nice, Brother," Alphonse said, looking up from where he sat on the floor with Elicia. The little girl had cornered Al almost as soon as he'd walked into the house, insisting that they color pictures for everyone who walked through the door.

"Yeah, but," Edward frowned. He hated this feeling, like ants were walking under his skin. There were so many things he yet had to do and being stuck in the Hughes' house hadn't been in his plans for the evening. Or, as the case might be, for the next day or so, the way the snow was continuing to fall. He hated to say it but it looked like the drifts on the front lawn were already higher than the top of his head.

"Oh relax, Ed." One of the main reasons for coming to the get-together patted his foot. Edward wasn't about to tell Winry that she was why he'd agreed to come to the party. He wasn't even quite sure why her being here had made his decision that much easier. All he knew is when she tilted her head back to look at him, her hair brushed his thigh and he was torn between moving away and edging closer. "The library will be there tomorrow."

"If we can dig our way out." Ed nodded at the windows and the snow whipping past them.

Winry and Alphonse exchanged long-suffering glances. Using Al's shoulder as leverage, Winry got to her feet, linking her arm through Edward's. "You need to get into the holiday spirit," she said.

"What spirit?" He glared but didn't try to pull away immediately. She felt…nice, pressed against his arm. And she smelled like…like…Ed hoped he wasn't blushing.

"Come on," Winry practically ordered. "Al, Elicia, excuse us for a bit, will you?"

"Sure thing, Winry," Al said and Ed could've sworn his brother had a wicked glint in his eyes. Oh, damn. What had those two come up with? He wondered whether it would be safer outside in the snow than trapped in here, with Winry and Alphonse plotting against him. Elicia even seemed to be in on it, grinning madly and waving her pudgy little fingers around her crayons.

"What – where are we going, Winry?" Ed hissed as she led him through the house, skirting the edges of the adults, moving to the music room. None of them seemed to be paying any attention, which Ed thought was just as well. Imagining Mustang's reactions to him being dragged behind a girl was enough to give Ed cold chills.

"You'll see," was Winry's answer. She peeped around a corner, checking both ways. Ed leaned around her shoulder and she promptly shoved him back. "No peeking."

"You're peeking."

"I'm leading you. I'm allowed to peek."

Ed rolled his eyes. Women. Winry pulled him around the corner and ducked into another door and, almost before Ed realized it, whipped back past him to make sure the door closed behind them.

The smells were glorious, redolent of cinnamon and spices, of yeasty breads and roasting meats. Ed took a deep, appreciative whiff and smiled. "I don't know about the holiday spirit," he said, "but this is making me hungry."

As she headed across the room to a countertop, Winry said, "I don't know how in the world you can be hungry, Ed, with as much as you ate."

He patted his stomach. "I'm a growing boy." When Winry's eyebrows shot up, he pointed at her. "Not a word." Her lower lip extended in a cute pout and Ed felt a nearly overwhelming urge to taste it. He bit his own lip, sucking in a quick breath of air. _Think of anything else_, he told himself. _Think of that snow. Yeah. Outside. Deeper than your head. Damn_. All he could picture was her lip.

While Ed was losing the argument with himself, Winry turned to the counter. "I wanted to give you something special this year, Ed, but I couldn't think of anything you might need or want. I mean, besides your very own library but where would you put it?"

That brought him right back to the here and now. Ed relaxed, understanding. He shoved his hand in a pocket, glad that Alphonse had reminded him to get a present for Winry. He'd remembered himself to bring flowers for Mrs. Hughes as a thank you for inviting them, something that had shocked his brother. But buying something for Winry had been surprisingly difficult this time around. He knew he could get her tools and she'd appreciate them but for some reason, that hadn't seemed quite appropriate this year. He just hoped she liked what he had picked out.

Winry was still talking and Edward forced himself to pick up thread of what she was saying. "Since you don't have a place for a library, at least not yet," and she looked at him with such an expression on her face that it almost hurt, almost made him want to turn away, "I couldn't get you any books or build you any shelves. But since I've been here, Miss Gracia's been teaching me to make pies," she said. Hands protected by a towel, Winry held up a pie for his inspection. It was a rich gold color, with little leaf cutouts allowing the steam to rise softly out of the filling. "I made this one just for you; fresh out of the oven - hot caramel apple pie."

"Winry." Ed was taken aback. He knew that she'd been busy helping Mrs. Hughes out while she was visiting but he'd never expected that she'd be learning to cook.

Winry blushed a little, or maybe it was the warmth of the kitchen making her cheeks rosier. "Do you…would you like to try it?"

"Yes, please." Ed watched as Winry set the pie back down gently and then bustled around the kitchen, obviously very familiar with its workings. She took down a little plate and got out a knife and a fork then reached into the ice box.

"What's warm pie without ice cream melting over it?" Winry asked.

Dragging his attention back to the question and away from the sight of her closing the icebox door with her backside, Ed floundered for the question. "Wrong?" He hoped that was the right answer.

Winry's grin let him know he'd guessed right. She sliced a generous portion of the pie and set it on the plate, then dipped into the ice cream, nestling it alongside the wedge. With a sort of mock gravity, Winry carried the plate to Edward in both hands, the fork resting under her thumb. Inclining her head to him, she said, "Your pie."

"Thanks, Winry." Ed fumbled for a second with the box in his pocket and realized he couldn't accept the plate and give her the present at the same time. Taking the plate, he picked up the fork and cut off the point. Winry watched with a frown as he turned the plate three times clockwise in his hands. Pushing the point aside, Ed cut off another piece of pie, scooped some ice cream up on the end of the fork and took a bite. Apple, caramel and vanilla swirled in his mouth; tart, sweet and creamy. He chewed, savoring the flavors. Winry watched him closely, her fingers laced together and he smiled at her, licking a smudge of ice cream off his lower lip. "This is delicious, Winry."

"You like it?"

Ed popped another piece into his mouth. "S'wonderful," he said around the pie. He finished off the wedge and most of the ice cream, leaving the point of the slice still on his plate. "You can really cook, Winry."

"Thank you." She reached out for the plate but Ed pulled it back.

"I still have some left." Ed swirled the point of the pie in the last of the ice cream, not quite looking at her. "Al and I were making our way through this little town in the middle of no where," he said, "and stopped in a diner so I could get something to eat. The food wasn't great but they served a lot of it. And there was a woman there who made pies."

Winry frowned slightly, obviously not understanding the story. Yet.

"She said her granny taught her to make pies when she was a little girl and that the first wedge that came out a pie was magic. But only the first wedge and only part of that wedge. She said that you're supposed to cut off the tip," he held up the small triangular piece in example.

"And turn the plate clockwise," Winry said, realization dawning.

"And save the tip of the pie to eat last. But only after you make a wish on it." Ed took a step closer to Winry, then another and offered her the last bite of pie. "Close your eyes and make a wish," he whispered. The corners of her mouth trying to quiver into a smile, Winry squeezed her eyes closed then opened her mouth. "Did you wish?"

"Yes," she said, sounding just a little breathless.

The sweet sound of a piano and people singing drifted into the room, seeming to blanket the kitchen in music. Ed mentally swore at his trembling hand as he guided the pie into her mouth. Winry closed her lips over the fork and he pulled it back out, setting down the plate and the silverware before he dropped either of them. Winry chewed and swallowed, her eyes still closed and Ed took her hands in his, leaning in to press a trembling kiss on her mouth. Her sigh mingled with his breath and he could taste the caramel sweetness on her lips.

They leaned back at the same time, hands still clasped. "Was that supposed to get me in the holiday spirit?" Ed asked softly, not wanting to break the mood.

"I was hoping," Winry told him, squeezing his hands.

"Wishing?"

She smiled a little wistfully. "If I tell you, it might not come true."

Ed frowned. "Wait. You mean you wished for something else?"

Winry just tugged at him. "Come on, before someone comes looking for us."

Allowing her to lead him back to the party, Ed followed her into the music room. Havoc gave him a wink that Ed was very happy that Winry didn't notice. As it was, he was glad that someone had turned off the lights and that the room was lit only in candles. His blush was easier to hide that way. Winry slipped in next to Al, wrapping her free hand around his greeve. Al glanced down at her in surprise then over at Ed, who stared at Winry. She gave him the same wistful grin, pulling him a little closer.

The voices raised in song wrapped around them again and Ed listened to the traditional words, hearing a promise in them. Swallowing, he slipped his arm around Winry's waist, knowing what she'd wished for as she hugged Al's arm.

It was his same wish.

_Dream, dream, dream,_

_of the joyous day to come,_

_While guardian angels without number_

_Watch you as you sweetly slumber,_

_Dream, dream, dream,_

_Of the joyous day to come. _


End file.
